


I'm tired of that feeling of...

by Incubion



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: DV, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incubion/pseuds/Incubion
Summary: DMC1,If Nelo Angelo killed DanteInspired by Karaii’s redemption and Style imitation by Frères de l’âme
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	I'm tired of that feeling of...

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [短篇合集](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744657) by [Sharsorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharsorn/pseuds/Sharsorn). 



Love has a fatal flaw, love for others more than love for themselves, will eventually lead to self-destruction.

7

Vergil……

When that cowardly, crying throat made its last sound, the sound that nearly tore his vocal cords was actually very faint. But there was a special magic in the sound, enough to pierce the howling wind, enough to cleave the hard earth, enough to let a guilty soul realize his errors and mend his ways.

That guilty soul is me, Vergil, Sparda’s firstborn. I can think what I want now, but I won’t tell anyone. The man I could have confided my secrets to, my brother, his soul is gone, flesh and blood all over this place. Every fiber of my being cried out that I would not accept his death. He was my brother. He didn’t deserve to die like that.

I have a sin name, Nelo Angelo, Mundus’s dark angel. Mundus made me look like this, no one who knows me will recognize me, and my mother, if she’s alive, probably won’t recognize her own son. Sparda’s eldest son is dead, and the only survivors are the devil’s servants, lackeys, and executioners. The armor around my body is heavier than death. They can’t imagine what I’ve been through, what I’ve become, what I’ve done, what I’ve done to my brother.

Dante, my brother, he was tortured to death for a long time. He died long and hard, from dusk till midnight, hour after hour. He was mutilated, disemboweled, and all that was left of his spine and neck were twisted beyond recognition. Like a butcher’s butchered animal.He begged three times, and three times I looked the other way. If only I had come to my senses sooner, if only I could think of my parents, if only I could think of my brother, if only I could think of what I thought, and not be bound by absolute obedience, I certainly would not have done so...When he first looked me in the eye and spoke to me with those blue eyes.

By the time Dante begged me for the third time, his torturous body was suffering from a lack of dignity. He said to me, “If you think of me as the enemy, Vergil, give the enemy the respect he deserves! Don’t give me to Mundus! Sparda’s children don’t deserve this humiliation. Vergil... Vergil... I beg you... I’d rather you kill me!”

I was too cruel to him, Dante, my brother. I don’t even have the grace to grant him a quick death.With tears in his eyes, he had only part of his once healthy and beautiful body was left. The rest of his limbs twisted as if the limits of the bent skeleton had disappeared.

Little by little his power was dissipating in the night wind. The pain nearly drove him mad.

Almost.

He fought until the day he died, hoping to wake me up. He didn’t know that when I held his throat, I felt suffocated, too. But the voice of the Lord hovered deep inside my head.These swirling sounds will grow louder and louder until they consume everything I know and care about.

Well done, Nelo, my Dark Angel.

These words were spoken slowly, with a pause in each word, and trang in my skull. I unconsciously began to smile. I was trained to smile. I smiled at Dante in the dark. I looked into his blue eyes and saw my blood red eyes and my white teeth. That’s what a good dog is supposed to do, follow orders and never ask why.

He is the enemy of the Lord. I must to use every inch of Dante’s flesh, every breath, not even his soul. I can feel his pain feeding the Lord, and I should rejoice and be proud of it. But I didn’t.While the host’s whisper rumbled in my head, I was remembering the second time Dante begged me.As I unbuttoned his collar, I saw for the first time something called tension in his blue eyes. He’s the bravest warrior I’ve ever met, the toughest fighter I’ve ever met, but he still has the useless emotions of a human being.After I undressed him completely, I felt his blue eyes darken, and I felt his shame at what was about to happen.

Despite the dim light, Dante’s body was so clear that lightning lit him up as it exploded overhead. He was naked, but he did not flinch in the night wind. His face was filled with expressions I couldn’t read, which made me feel even smaller. When he opened his arms to me, I even took a few steps back, fearing that I might desecrate this perfect body.

But that’s not allowed. He is the chosen lamb, and all that is in him belongs to the Lord. The blood moon rises, the anger descends, the bone-chilling frost has frozen my just born confusion. I raised the blade toward Dante, and when Dante saw the blade in my hand, the light in his eyes went out.

I sliced through the flesh until the blade touched his spine. Blood flowed freely, even the dust on the ground was washed clean. He was not yet screaming, but was convulsed so violently that it was hard to hold on. I pinned his limbs with my sword, and he still clenched his teeth, until I plunged one hand into the wound in his belly before he uttered a scream I will never forget: like the cries of a dying animal. His nails scratched the floor, trying to grasp at the last glimmer of hope that had slipped through his fingers. Tears from those blue eyes with a trace of fatigue, like a small stream flowing in this piece of flesh-and-blood land.

Transparent tears, yellow bile, white bone marrow, and deep red blood, all mixed together, all the liquid is black.

In the night, I gave his heart to the blood moon, then I let him die.

6

Dante,when you close your eyes and spit out a sigh of relief, I’m overwhelmed with irrational emotion.I began to think, I began to understand, I should not listen to the voice of the Lord, the voice that asked me to kill everything, the voice that asked me to treat you cruelly. But, it was too late.

I lie down next to your torso, looking up into the night sky, and all of a sudden, my admiration for Mundus melts like ice. I felt the moon as if it were a huge hole, cutting open the night’s skin and pulling out the innards from that hole. I just woke up from my dementia, and immediately fell into the pain of losing you. Pain builds the emotional world, and pain gives birth to unbearable despair. This pain -- it’s never going to go away.

How I regret it! I regret not following your advice. 

A long, long time ago, when you scolded me, but the voice was full of emotion, even with a glimmer of hope.Your hand was always reaching out to me, once to retrieve the necklace I took, and once to grab me. If I had listened to You then, if I had held your hand then, everything would have been different. But instead of doing that, I hurt you. You cursed me, but you also cried for me, you cried and your snot came out，like a little child.But， it was only now that I realized my mistake. I am both evil and human, and I have both flaws: arrogance and recklessness. The former caused me to leave you behind, the latter to abandon myself to an uncertain fate.

I cried!  
I wailed!  
It’s tearing me apart!

Tears trickled down my cheeks, through the slits of blood-stained fingers, dripping onto your cheeks and finally building up in your eye sockets. I wipe your still warm body with tears, as if in the sacred ceremony. I put your limbs suture, but the inner emptiness can not be filled. I can see everything about you in this broken shell, even though it looks horrible. Looking at you, my eyes gradually a blur, in the Blur, I seem to see you alive, Smiling to me, telling me there's still one thing to be done.

This suit of armor, a symbol of slavery, has bonded with my body, and it has almost sucked me dry. Taking them off is like ripping off a layer of flesh. The blood kept gushing, I smeared your blood all over my mangled body and finally it turned into a black and red battle suit. My brother, death is irreversible, but I will inherit your will. I kissed you one last time and closed your eyelids with my lips. 

Ah! The long night has come, I left this piece of slaughterhouse, but my mind is full of your broken appearance. I know, accompany me only the irreversible loneliness. By the time I knew what I was supposed to do, it was too late. By then, tears had dried from your blue eyes, and you were still looking at me, as if pleading with a madman to come to your senses.

Sorry, Dante. I’m really sorry.

5

Sword of Sparda.  
Mommy's amulet.

Who would have thought,the power I’ve always dreamed of, and now I have it, so easily. With this power, I defeated and sealed Mundus, the source of our misfortune. When the under world lost its emperor, the ominous blood moon exploded in the night sky, shattering into a terrifying meteor shower that fell to Earth,and eventually sank with Mallet Island.

With the help of that she-devil, I returned to the world, to the shop that belonged to Dante. Dante’s friends were there to greet me like I was some kind of hero. They can’t tell the difference between me and Dante. They can’t see Dante’s blood on me.

They thought I was Dante.

No one knows that Dante begged me three times, and I ignored him three times by pretending to be deaf. I had lost my humanity, and at that point, I was incorrigible. However, I have sealed the Mundus seal, the voice that ordered my dehumanization, and it will never ring again.

There’s nothing to worry about anymore.

In the human world ，I force myself to live like Dante, Eat Pizza, drink gin and listen to loud, awful Music. Sometimes I go to a bar and order a strawberry sundae. I would not die without food or drink, nor would human money or recreation mean anything to me. I’m doing this because I’m playing Dante. I hunt demons，not for humans, but for myself. The only difference between me and Dante is that he was really trying to protect the human race, and I was just playing his part.

And just like that, I lost myself in a strange way. The good news is, I don’t feel anything. 

The only thing that gets me going is hunting demons.It’s the only job I can do, and it’s made Dante more and more famous. In the mercenary business, Dante’s name is almost synonymous with the uncrowned king.

Human emotions are incredibly diverse, but they don’t mean anything to me. They’re not the ones I need to worry about. They’re just a bunch of stupid humans because they don’t know anything. Perhaps only the devil who escaped the island with me knew what I was, but she said nothing and soon moved away from the shop.

As soon as I’m in combat mode, my enemies will bow their heads and wait to be killed. When I started killing, I was Nelo Angelo again. It’s not because of anyone’s orders, it’s because of my own thoughts and needs. When I have a gun in my left hand and Rebellion in my right, I don’t care how strong the enemy is, because victory will be mine.

After victory there is a great emptiness. I lay on Dante’s bed, my eyes glued to a smudge on the ceiling.I couldn’t sleep. I spent hours trying to remember Dante, but Dante was dead. I froze his life in a sordid agony, and I could almost imagine his soul lingering in that dark castle. And it’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Dante. Every time I think about it, I wish I was the one who died.

Compared to you,i’m more like a dead man.I am a statue of sin mixed with cement, nourishing the flesh with your blood, and my body reeks of damp earth and rotting bones. There’s no way to hide the smell. Even after I washed my body and clothes, even after I put on perfume, the smell of decay was still there. 

Day after day, a lot of things change in a mercenary’s life, even the air in a tavern isn’t what it used to be. While they continued to wear smiling faces, they spat at me behind my back. I know, because the rumors are whispering, about my madness in battle, about my devouring the souls of the dead.

Those ridiculous humans, they always take rumors with a grain of salt.Then came the rumors about Bobby’s cellar. Several so-called insiders stood up and blathered on as if they had seen everything with their own eyes.So the next day, the rumor simply stated that I would let my friend’s soul die in my place.

They tore off the fig leaf of the rumor but kept smiling at me, pretending that nothing had happened. I know they don’t have the guts not to smile, but the smile never reaches their eyes, because they never dare to look me in the eye.

To everyone, I was a taboo, was a curse, was death with two feet.

That’s when it dawned on me that Dante wasn’t happy in the world. Humans isolates him by gossip, repels him with a look of fear. I know， rumors don’t really destroy a person, but loneliness does.

I never wanted to put Dante in this position. In fact, I love Dante. We’re twin brothers, born on the same day, in the same mother. I loved him so much. I would give anything to keep him alive.

4

Do You Like to Smile?  
No? Me too.

When I was a kid, I didn’t always smile in front of people. Because only kids and idiots laugh for no reason, and Dante has both. And now, after Dante died, I’m laughing. To others, I always smile, smile can cover up my hypocrisy and emptiness.

However, I find that a smile can be exchanged for a smile. My favorite smile is Lucia’s smile. As a creature created by magic, she is neither devil nor human. Lucia’s having a hard time fitting in, so maybe that’s why she likes me.

She used to stare at me with her eyes, and the fire in her eyes burned in a wonderful and beautiful way. I get it. She wants me to stay. I get it. She wants to be a big part of my life. I know her eyes because they look just like Dante’s. Before I broke up with Dante, in that sleazy little hotel room, he looked at me the same way when we slept together.

We did not hold hands, did not speak, I just looked at him, he also looked back at me. For a few minutes, we just looked at each other. Then we got up and left the bar, walking side by side in the moonlight. 

That night was a full moon, an endless full moon high in the deep blue sky, like a round of the night sun, so that the stars around are overshadowed. Our true shadows, cast long in the moonlight, looked menacing and terrifying.We did not encounter many obstacles along the way, even if there are some devils, we will be together to eliminate. 

Back then, Dante and I probably had no room in our heads for anything but sex.

He went into a small hotel and I followed him. All it takes is money to get a room, and the receptionist won’t even look at us. If he did, he’d find out we’re a pair of incestuous brothers. Dante went into the room without turning on the light and stood in the dark, waiting for me. 

The Moon is blocked by the curtain of lace, the light illuminates our face ambiguously. Dante pulls me into the room, pulls me into his arms, he’s got his jacket off, and his bare chest smells like cheese and soda. I am powerless, and have no desire to resist his call. I let Dante take my scarf and rip my vest.I let him，indulged him. Every garment he takes off is like a chain from my shoulder. I’m naked and relaxed, and Dante comes up to me, and his lips kiss mine. His lips are soft and moist, his breath warm and Kindliness. My knees are shaking, and I lie down on the bed with him beside me.

I never had a man before Dante, and I guess Dante didn’t either. So it starts with a kiss, a touch, a thrill of ecstasy. I leaned my head against Dante’s ribs and listened to the pounding inside, the sound i missed so much, as if someone were tapping his knuckles against the door of his heart under his skin. Then Dante had an epiphany. He opened my body up. For a moment, I was neither questioning nor surprised by what he wanted to do. Perhaps this is the so-called “Passion”, it is confusing, do not care about anything.

Dante put pain and joy into me at the same time, and I held his face, and I kissed him so hard, I turned this shower into a storm. Sometimes I’m down there, breathing, seeing my reflection in Dante’s blue eyes; Sometimes I’m up there with Dante’s beating heart in my palm, and I’m twisting my hips, feeling like a seaweed swaying under the sea. If I want to kiss him at this point, I have to bow down and keep my head down, which is really weird. If I didn’t feel so enthralled, I might laugh out loud. But I couldn’t laugh. The blood rushes to the brain like a wave, pours into the ears, flows down the throat, and even each hair can feel the strong concussion. It’s a magical feeling. With kisses and caresses, we stumble, rise and fall, and we end up on a mysterious journey.

But the journey has to end sometime. I opened my lips and breathed in the cool air.

When I got up, my legs were so weak that I could hardly stand. Tears of Joy Turn Cold. I wiped away my tears, picked up my shirt and put it on slowly, without expression. My hands were shaking, I could barely button them, and Dante had to help me button them. At last he kissed me on the cheek, and his blue eyes seemed to say, “Don’t go, stay.”

But I just turned around, opened the window, and jumped. Outside the window seems to have a rain, moisture into the bone, along the bone marrow flow, freezing all the passion. I walked along the road, from wobbly to firm, went farther and farther, didn’t look back； I could feel Dante’s eyes following me,but I didn’t look back.

The red-haired girl is always spying on me. Same Look Dante gave me that night. From every angle, she’s nothing like Dante, except for the eyes. Lucia also had a pair of eyes that showed her love with a look.

Of course, Dante never commented on my appearance. Because we’re twins. We’re identical. It’s hard to tell one from the other. We all have a pretty face, broad shoulders, and a tall figure. Dante used to talk to me with his eyes. As I sat on him, rose and fell, sweat glinting silver in the moonlight, Dante would say to me with his eyes, “I love you”; as I tortured him with my blade and my hands, destroying him minute by minute, Dante’s eyes still said to me, “I love you”.

I knew what Lucia’s eyes meant when they landed on me. But she was bound to be disappointed. My emotions have long since run out. Maybe I can get along with others well, I can take care of them, but I can no longer have intimate relationships with others. I don’t want anyone in this world but Dante, my blood brother.

We met again on a summer night. We were 17. Dante saw me right away. As soon as he saw me, he ran towards me, and the storm in his eyes blew up without warning, right into my heart. My heart was as dead as water, but when I saw him, it began to jump, jump so hard, almost broke my ribs. And in that moment, I knew I’d never stop thinking about Dante.

3

I’ve lived as Dante for years, and there’s one thing I still can’t figure out. 

I can’t figure out how Dante could recognize me through all that heavy, ugly armor.I can’t figure out why Dante gave up when he had a chance to save himself. 

As long as he picks up Rebellion, which has been at hand all along，as long as he kills me he can be saved easily. But he gave up, preferring to watch in pain and fear as his body became more and more fragmented, until the body disappeared, until the soul split into a thousand pieces.

On that day, in the blood of battle, I murdered my brother, and my brother murdered himself.

I can’t figure out them at all.

2

I don’t know who I am or where I’m from. I’m floating in nothingness, like I’m in a little black box. I can not see or hear, but I can feel a wonderful throb, if I had a mouth, I would tell you that it is the power of life.

Where I come from, everything is still. Still life is certainly not comfortable, but I don’t know how I got out of that place, out of that state. My Mind goes from stillness to movement, strengthening every minute and every second. I imagined every feeling of being alive, but the feeling of actually being alive was still amazing.

I felt the heat coming from my chest, pumping blood into my limbs, and the sound of the blood rushing through my body was like the sound of a sea of waves, a deep but violent roar. I felt the light burning my eyes, as if a strong beam of light had hit the glass with countless facets and reflected back to my eyes.I felt thirsty, and felt every crack in my lips as I licked them. I felt my lungs burned like fire, and as I breathed, it felt like sandpaper was rubbing against my windpipe.

When I came back to life, the first thing I felt was physical pain. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t.

It’s not what I imagined, but it’s not unbearable. With the passage of time, the situation is gradually getting better. I looked around in a blur and found myself standing in the middle of a wasteland. The air was dry and sweat dripped from my chin and was instantly absorbed by the Thirsty Earth.

Just then, a whisper rang.

At first, I thought it was gravel rubbing against each other, maybe a reptile passing nearby. I squinted, trying to make sense of my surroundings: I couldn’t see anything alive. All the spaces are filled with sand, but the sand is different from the sand, like the one under my feet, which was a riverbed, maybe there was a river, but that must have been a long time ago. 

Something reflective was flashing not far away.

I walked toward the light, my bones trembling with each step, as if the gears were grinding into each other. When I got close enough, I saw the shimmering thing hidden in half of the skull, the white bone shining, the black eye socket staring at me coldly, the skull chin half buried in the gravel. Whoever he was, he only had cold, empty bones, and I was glad I wasn’t like him.

My hand went through the air and pulled the shimmering piece out of the crack in the skull. It was a fragment of a weapon, the blade of which gleamed like Mercury. The whisper came back, creeping into my brain like a bug through an ear hole. What the hell is that sound, or is it a language?

Something that was obviously not mine came out of this body: sadness, but also joy. I felt a shudder and suddenly understood what the whispers were trying to tell me.

“Go back, go back,”they said. “Go back to your home.”

The whisper led me to say the mantra to go home, the shard of weapon in my hand burst into light, the light merged into a beam of light, the beam of light continued to spread, when I was completely covered with light, i felt like there was another world open to me at my feet.

1

A crowd of people gathered around me and asked me how I got back, but I couldn’t answer. Then they asked me how I was feeling. I told them I felt like Superman, plugged in to the Sun. My vision seemed to stretch to infinity, and my hearing was a thousand times clearer. I can detect life beyond man, and the unnatural can not be hidden from my senses. I also told them that I had a swirling energy inside me that allowed me to smash the Earth and tear open the stars with my bare hands. It’s a force that, if unleashed, will have unimaginable consequences.

When they heard it, they took it for granted. And I’m waiting for them to give me my name. At that moment, the Whisper rang again, and this time I knew it was the body trying to communicate with me. A little voice in my body told me that I had the strength of the Devil and the goodness of mankind. I protect the humans. I fight the Lord of Chaos. I won, but I died once. The price of coming back from the dead is temporary amnesia. The voice whispered in my head.

I don’t remember anything, but I’m not an idiot. I knew that the little voice was just trying to convince me to accept this body. I could swear that this body without a scar was not my original body. The owner of the body, for some reason, he left it to me.

I think I should thank him.

0

I ran away from the party, hid in the bathroom, and washed my face with cool water. When I raised my head, a wet face was reflected in the mirror hanging over the sink. I blinked and sent a smile to the man in the mirror. But the smile that came back was a little different -- with a casual sadness.

Suddenly, I was surprised to find that the smile was cold and silent, that was the expression of a dead man sleeping in a coffin. Suddenly, I felt lost, this expression and appearance was so familiar, but now my feeling and memory had become so vague.

“Who the hell are you? What’s Your Name?”I asked the man in the mirror.

He did not answer, nor did the little voice. Only a pain came, as if be left in the heart of the last sorrow. And then, I know what to do. I held out my hand slowly and slowly, to the sorrow, to the pain.

The Man in the mirror has a thin but handsome face, a deep but melancholy eyes, a soft but bitter lips. I stand still, trembling. Then I wept and spoke to the man in the mirror: “You should have told me. At least... We could have said goodbye.”

But the little voice had faded from my head, leaving only a lonely name, my name --

Dante.


End file.
